


Not the Intended Use (But who cares?)

by monkeyonthelam



Category: White Collar
Genre: Arts, Bathing/Washing, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-06
Updated: 2010-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:03:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkeyonthelam/pseuds/monkeyonthelam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Elizabeth visit Neal while he is sculpting and make a mess of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Intended Use (But who cares?)

Neal liked working with clay. It molded and flexed to his every whim and it made him feel powerful. It was a different type of power than he felt after forging bank bonds or fraudulent files; that was precise and it was almost a science. More than any type of art form, sculpture needs to be done by touch. As he smoothed over one of the sides, the excess clay flowed over his fingers, enveloping them in the soft putty.

Neal’s concentration is broken by a knock on the door. He should probably go answer it, but he is elbow deep in soft, malleable material and does not want to take the mess off of the plastic tarp he is standing on.

“Who’s there?” he calls out to the visitors at the door and hopes that it is someone who won’t be offended by his rudeness.

Neal sighs with relief when he hears Peter and Elizabeth at the door. “It’s Peter.”

“And Elizabeth!” Peter’s wife adds.

“Come in. Door’s open,” Neal says as he refuses to tear his eyes away from the work in front of him.

After Peter and Elizabeth have entered the apartment and closed the door behind them, they have a hard time not staring at their lover who is currently shirtless, covered in sweat and remnants of clay.

Neal finally stops working and turns his gaze to the couple standing ten feet from him. “If you want to wait on the couch while I clean up, I can finish this later.”

“Don’t clean up on our account. The view is quite nice from here. I don’t mind just watching,” Elizabeth says in a soft voice. She goes to sit at the table and turns the chair so she can watch Neal work.

“You might be content to just be an observer, but I'm not.” Peter says as he moves to unbutton his shirt. Once his shirt and undershirt are removed, he works on stepping out of his shoes. Now barefoot, Peter walks over to the tarp and stands behind Neal. The mound of clay in front of them doesn’t have much of a shape so Peter doesn’t feel too guilty about what he is going to do.

“I like to be a little more hands-on.” As Peter is talking, he stretches his arms on either side of Neal and plunges his hands into the slippery matter in front of him. Once every spot of his tan and pink flesh is covered with a gray coat of clay, he pulls back. Neal’s body has stiffened in excitement and anticipation. Without warning, Peter combs his glistening hands through Neal’s wild and matted hair, almost massaging the clay into the sweat-soaked curls. A small moan escapes from Neal’s mouth and that motivates him to keep going. Peter’s hands then move to the sides of Neal’s face. He slowly moves them downward leaving an off-white trail down his cheeks that barely contrasts with his pale skin.

Once both his hands reach Neal’s chin, he reaches forward to get more large handfuls of the wet goo. Recklessly, Peter lays his hands on Neal’s upper chest, the clay dripping down his abs with each movement of his hands. Peter takes extra care to rub the thick substance around Neal’s nipples without touching the nipples themselves. It’s this move that makes Neal shake in his arms. Two more applications of clay fully coats Neal’s abs and stomach.

Peter moves farther back and moves his hands from Neal’s sides to his shoulders. Through an abrupt motion, he turns Neal around so he is facing him and looks at the work he has done so far. Peter then puts both of his hands on Neal’s chest and pushes him so his back comes into contact with the clay on the table. The movement makes a delightful squish sound and Neal takes a moment to enjoy the cool, soft material against his back before he stands upright. Outside of his hands, Peter is completely clean.

“That’s so not fair,” Neal whispers. “I know you’re enjoying the show, Elizabeth, but do you think you can give me a little help?”

“Of course, sweetie. It would be my pleasure.”

As Elizabeth slips down to her underwear, she's immediately thankful that all of her good bras are in the wash so she is wearing one she doesn’t mind getting messy. Because it definitely will. Dressed in her bra and panties, Elizabeth walks over to the tarp where her boys are. Both Neal and Peter turn to face her. Neal dumps a few mounds of the stuff on the top of Peter’s head, so much that it starts dripping down the side and onto his ears. Elizabeth drags some down from his hair to his forehead and cheeks. Carefully, she draws one finger between his eyes, down his nose and on to his chin. When she removes her hands, he holds his wife’s face with his palms stretching over her cheeks and gives her a kiss.

When they part, two off-white hand prints adorn her face. Neal takes Elizabeth’s hands and fills them with clay. She slowly caresses her husband’s stomach in vertical sweeping strokes. Neal takes care of Peter’s backside as he slides his dirty, messy hands down the older man’s spine. He knows the exact places where Peter is ticklish and makes no effort to avoid them. He knows he hits the spot when he hears Peter trying to repress a chuckle. When Neal reaches the bottom of his lover’s back, he moves position so they can focus their attention on Elizabeth.

Peter splats the thick substance on the top of her forehead. Elizabeth tips her head so that large slabs can drip down her face and onto her chest. Some of it lands inside her bra while others only make it to her neck. Her enjoyment is clear on her face so Peter adds more. Elizabeth smiles in response. Neal walks behind her and proceeds to glide his covered hands down the smoothness of her back. He continues the pattern past her panties and down her legs.

Elizabeth hastily unbuttons Peter’s pants and drags them down to his ankles. Peter leans against the clay behind him as he lifts one leg then another to remove the pants completely. She then throws them to the other side of the tarp. Peter yanks Neal closer to him by his waistband and makes quick work of his zipper. Neal’s dark blue work pants are well-worn so they slide off of his slender hips quickly. When they fall to the floor, Neal steps out of them and throws them in the direction Elizabeth threw Peter’s pants earlier.

Armed with a fresh batch of clay in his hand and dripping through his fingers, Peter moves to face Neal, who has his back to the slowly decreasing amount of clay that is still on the table. He grabs Neal’s cock through his briefs and tugs. Elizabeth watches her husband take control of the situation. In her opinion, he’s done that one too many times. Elizabeth walks between her two men and pulls Peter’s hand away from its perch on Neal’s hardening cock. She is met with sighs of disappointment.

Elizabeth starts to speak in a low voice. “We are going to do something different this time.”

She arranges her lovers just like an artist molds his masterpiece. She turns Peter around so his back is facing Neal. She then pushes him back a half-step so he is standing flat against Neal’s chest. The female brunette then takes one of Neal’s hands and immerses it in the clay, covering both of their hands with the soft sludge. Elizabeth places that hand on top on Peter’s cock. Through the thin material of the boxer-briefs, Neal can feel it beginning to stiffen. Neal doesn’t let his hand move from the spot where she put it while he waits for further instructions. Elizabeth takes the arm that is not busy and drapes it over Peter’s shoulder so that there is no space allowed between their two bodies. Once she is finished placing her companions she stands back to look at the gorgeous scene in front of her.

“This is how this is going to work. Neal, you’re going to bring Peter to full hardness with just your hand. I’m going to stand here and watch you do it. If I like what you two are doing, I’ll put on a show of my own.”

Both men silently nod. Neal begins by palming Peter’s cock. He takes his time because he rarely gets to be the one calling in the shots -- not that he would ever complain about it. Soft squeezes turn into strong jerks. Neal has a mission to accomplish and he doesn’t want to disappoint Elizabeth. As Neal’s grip gets tighter, Peter’s breathing becomes deeper and more labored. The wet clay has made Peter’s white boxer-briefs transparent enough that they do little to hide his growing erection. The pre-come leaking out of his head might have helped, but it is hard to determine.

“You’re doing such a great job, Neal. He’s getting close; I can see it in his face. He’s so beautiful. You are too.” Becoming aroused herself, Elizabeth starts to grab herself through her panties. Her wetness is already seeping, though, and it makes the clay that much more slippery.

Neal can feel Peter’s erection behind its cotton barrier, now almost bursting at the seams. Neal puts his hand as far down his lover’s crotch as he can and rubs his way up to the waistline. Peter throws his head back against Neal’s shoulder in anticipation of his oncoming orgasm. Neal then fits as much of Peter’s engorged cock in his hand as possible and gives one final strong pull. Peter sighs and breathlessly whispers Neal’s name.

As Peter starts to come down off of his orgasm, Neal whispers in his ear, “You need to open your eyes and look at your wife right now. She’s putting on that show she promised.”

With both of her boys’ eyes on her, Elizabeth feels the need to perform. She continues to touch herself, her panties starting to sag from the combination of the wetness and added clay. As she comes, her eyes close, her mouth opens wide and she screams into her orgasm.

As Neal watches Elizabeth pleasure herself, Neal feels himself grow hard. There’s no doubt that Peter can feel it against his lower backside. Neal’s assumptions are confirmed as Peter turns around, probably to avoid being stabbed in the back by Neal’s lengthened cock. Peter pulls Neal close and gives him a passionate kiss.

“You were fantastic. Let’s get cleaned up so I can return the favor.”

Neal places a nearby towel he had nearby to clean up mistakes on the floor and the three of wipe their feet on it to keep from leaving white footprints from the tarp to the bathroom.

Peter leads the way to the over-sized bathroom with Neal and Elizabeth right behind him. Once inside, all undergarments are removed and laid on a towel rack.

“I’m not sure if there’s a dry-cleaner in Manhattan that can salvage these clothes,” Neal states.

“Don’t worry about that now. We have more pressing issues to deal with,” Peter says as he grabs Neal’s hard-on, now free from any offending fabric.

“After you.” Neal pulls back the ornate shower curtain and gestured for Peter and Elizabeth to go inside.

Peter and Elizabeth standing on opposite sides of the shower stall as Peter turns the water on. Neal takes his place between the two of them. Both of their attentions are focused on the young man in front of them and each of them is armed with soapy washcloths. Peter washes Neal’s front and Elizabeth his back. The clay had dried somewhat, so it comes off rather easily. The suds run down Neal’s chest as Peter continues his back and forth motion with the washcloth. After there was no clay visible on his abs or stomach, Peter moves to Neal’s arms. The left one then the right one. Meanwhile, Elizabeth begins to work on the knotted mess on top of his head.

After the arms were finished, Peter squats down so he can wash Neal’s legs. He pays special care not to go to close to his throbbing cock for fear that he would come before he should. When Neal’s cock was the only part of him that was still dirty. Peter swipes the offending substance with a ghost of a touch from the washcloth.

Afterwards, Neal offers Peter a hand to stand up. Elizabeth moves to front of the shower so she can wash her hair. Peter takes her spot in the back of the shower and sits on the ledge there. He then pulls Neal forward by his ass cheeks. Neal’s cock is practically pulsating at this point. Peter keeps his hands where they are on Neal’s lower back as he begins to take Neal into his mouth. The seated man didn’t have time to waste because he can already taste the pre-come. Peter fits as much of Neal’s massive cock in his mouth as he can and begins to suck like he was draining the last of his water canteen after being stuck in the desert. As Neal pants, he fists Peter’s still clay covered hair. Soon later, Neal’s entire cock was in Peter’s mouth as he started to come with a shout.

“I will never tire of your talented mouth,” Neal says to Peter.

“You better not. You’re taking up too much room, so would you mind stepping out of the shower so I could spend some time with my wife?”

“Of course.”

Neal exits the shower, grabs a towel and closes the bathroom door behind him.

When the two of them were alone, they share a passionate kiss under the shower spray. Since Elizabeth already washed her hair, she squirts more shampoo in her hands and begins to work on her husband’s scalp. Peter remains silent as he leans into his wife’s affectionate touch. Elizabeth hums as she washes her husband from head to foot. There wasn’t much left to clean because the running water they were standing under already took care of most of it. After she finished, they share another kiss before they left the shower.

“I love you,” Peter tells his wife as he hands her a towel.

“I love you too, honey,” Elizabeth responds as she wraps the towel around her waist.

Peter and Elizabeth visited Neal so often that they had their own drawers near the bed where they kept their pajamas. As soon as they were dressed, they join Neal in bed who is on the side farthest from them. Elizabeth lies next to Neal with her back to Neal’s chest and Peter lies on the other side of her.

Neal whispers in Elizabeth’s ear, but still loud enough that Peter could hear. “Good night, my loves.”

Elizabeth responds. “We love you too, Neal. Don’t ever doubt it.”

To which Neal replies, “Never.”


End file.
